


Teething and Fledging

by Lynx22281



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Fic, Nephilim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-27
Updated: 2014-02-27
Packaged: 2018-01-14 00:07:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1245376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lynx22281/pseuds/Lynx22281
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being a baby is such a pain sometimes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Teething and Fledging

A sharp, shrill wail pierced through the baby monitor on the nightstand. Groaning, Dean rolled over and glanced at the alarm clock. _Too damn early_ was how his brain interpreted the neon-green digital numbers. He swiped a hand roughly over his face; the two-day old stubble lining his jaw rasped softly against the skin of his palm.

Mary had been uncharacteristically cranky all day – refused to eat her favorite banana applesauce at lunch and only reluctantly took a bottle, couldn’t get interested in any of her toys for more than a few seconds, wanted to be held, but then wanted to be put down almost immediately, wouldn’t nap for more than fifteen minutes at a time. After supper, she laid on Dean’s chest while he watched several old episodes of _Game of Thrones_ and whimpered the whole time. By the time he finally put her down in her crib for the night, she’d developed a slight fever that worried him enough to sleep with one ear open.

Seconds ticked by and he realized the sounds coming over the monitor weren’t the ones of a grouchy, wet six-month-old. Those were cries of pain. Quickly he untangled his legs from the covers and hurried down the hall to the nursery.

His little girl was on her stomach, head lifted high, arms extended straight out with her chubby little elbows locked holding her torso up off the mattress. Her face was beet red as she screamed out her discomfort for the whole world to know. She turned as soon as she heard her dad enter the room, drool-shiny mouth bowing down in a very upset frown. Big teary blue eyes stared up at Dean as her hands started opening and closing in grabby motions against the mattress.

“Hey, baby doll. What’s the matter?” He pulled her up out of the crib, settling her bottom on his forearm and cupping the back of her head with his hand. She thumped her face down hard onto his shoulder, whining pitifully as her little hands fisted into his t-shirt. “Aunt Jody said you were probably cutting a tooth and that’s what’s been making you so mad.”

He carried her over to the changing table, figuring it never hurt to check her diaper, but as soon as he laid her down on the pad she started screaming harder. Instinct had him instantly abandoning his plans for a diaper change and scooping her back up to cuddle against his chest. She sobbed inconsolably against his neck as he gently stroked his fingertips over her downy blonde curls.

“Hey, hey. It’s ok, pumpkin,” he cooed softly, pressing a light kiss to her temple. “I know what’ll help it feel better, but you cannot tell your papa, ok?”

Dean left the nursery, heading straight to the liquor cabinet in the library and pulling out a bottle of 75-year-old Glenlivet. “My dad used to do this for Uncle Sammy when he was teething.”

He poured a splash of the dark amber liquid in one of the cut-crystal glasses sitting on top of the Art Deco styled cabinet and swirled his index finger around before offering it to Mary. She opened her mouth and greedily gummed at his whisky-flavored finger.

“Guess we need to grab a couple of teething rings and some Baby Orajel the next time we’re in town, huh?”

She replied by smacking her little pink lips around his finger like it was the best pacifier ever made.

“Ok, diaper change and then back to bed. Daddy’s gotta some sleep, kiddo.” He’d sorely missed their customary two-hour, before-dinner nap that didn’t happen that afternoon.

Mary nuzzled close with her arms tucked in close to her chest as she laid her cheek against her dad’s shoulder, still chewing on his finger.

Dean walked back to the nursery and again tried to put his daughter down on the changing table, but she started shrieking in pain as soon as her back came in contact with the soft squishy plastic pad. He couldn’t leave her with a wet bottom, not when they’d just managed to clear up her last round of diaper rash. As fast as possible, he unsnapped the bottom of her green striped onesie and stripped off her soaked diaper, exchanging it for a dry one.

“Oh, baby, I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he soothed quietly as he pulled her back up to lay against his shoulder, now worried that an incoming tooth slicing its way through her tender gums wasn’t her only problem. His big palm rubbed over her tiny back as she shook with distressed hiccups. She cried harder at his touch.

On the fourth pass over her back, he realized that the bumps he was feeling beneath his hand weren’t wrinkles in her clothes that he could smooth out. Furrowing a brow, he reached down to unsnap the onesie again so he could pull it up and look over her shoulder without putting her down. The middle of her back was red and warm to the touch. Two bony protrusions poked up between her shoulder blades.

“Cas, get your ass down here now!” he called out worriedly as he carefully pulled Mary’s onesie off and laid her, belly-down, in the crib. She pressed her face into the mattress, crying into the soft sheet that was covered with white daisies and fat bumblebees. It was an awful feeling to know that his touch had made her hurt even worse.

With a rustle, the angel appeared next to Dean at the side of Mary’s crib. While Dean had mostly retired from hunting after Hell had been locked up for good two years ago, Castiel was continuing to help with the reconstruction of Heaven, though he was beginning to step away from his active role in the new leadership. However, no matter how much his brethren needed him, he still came whenever Dean called. “Dean, what’s wrong?”

At the sound of Castiel’s voice, Mary lifted her head trying to catch a glimpse of her other father and made a futile attempt to turn around. He stepped around to Dean’s right side to put himself in her line of sight. She flopped over onto her side and held her pudgy hand out to him, whimpering miserably.

“Look,” Dean directed, pointing down at the baby’s bare back. In just the few minutes since he first noticed what was really bothering her, her skin had cracked open over the pair of knots, oozing and bleeding sluggishly.

Castiel leaned over the crib rail to pull the baby up to his chest, murmuring soothingly to her. She wrapped her little arms around his neck and cried pitifully against his shirt collar.

“Her Grace is starting to manifest,” Castiel rumbled softly with his cheek pressed gently against Mary’s warm forehead. “She’s fledging. It’s uncomfortable, but she will be ok.”

Dean let out a breath of relief that at least one of them knew what the hell was going on with their kid. He crossed the room to the changing table to grab a wet wipe and returned to Castiel’s side, reaching out to gently dab at the weeping discharge leaking from the wounds on his daughter’s back. “Fledging?”

“Since she is a nephilim her Grace will manifest on the physical plane until she is strong enough to manipulate it.” Castiel ran his hand gently down the baby’s bare back, pausing to circle one swollen nodule with his finger tip. “Her wings are starting to grow.”

“Is there anything we can do for her?”

“Not really,” he replied with a slightly helpless sigh. The angel kissed the top of Mary’s head gently. The stiffness in her little limbs immediately dissipated and her watery blueberry eyes drooped drowsily. Castiel frowned softly as she heaved a big sigh before snuggling into his chest.

“Did you give her alcohol?” he asked reproachfully, nostrils flaring slightly as he scented the breath that had left his daughter’s lungs.

“No,” Dean shot back defensively, tossing the used wet wipe into the trashcan by the bedroom door. “Well…yes. Rubbed some into her gums to make them stop hurting. She’s cutting a tooth too.”

Castiel pushed the tip of his finger against Mary’s lips. When she parted them to sleepily suck on his finger, he gingerly felt around her mouth. “Yes, her bottom left incisor is coming in, but you shouldn’t give her alcohol, Dean.”

“I didn’t have anything else to give her.” He crossed his arms over his chest, not taking too kindly to his parenting skills being called into question by his celestial partner who had never raised a kid before.

“I believe this may help.” The angel reached into his trench coat pocket and pulled out an icy-cold purple, heart-shaped teething ring, holding up to Mary. She grabbed for the plastic heart and stuck it in her mouth, humming in sleepy contentment at the cold numbness spreading along her gums.

With a soft humph, the tension that had pulled tight across Dean’s shoulders the minute he heard his daughter cry out in pain slowly released now that Castiel had worked his angel-daddy mojo on their daughter and eased her discomfort. He watched Cas carefully redress Mary and lay her back down on her stomach in the crib. She curled her legs up under her torso, sticking her diapered butt up in the air. Castiel tried to push her bottom back down and straighten her legs, but she just tucked them up under her body again. He muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like _stubborn Winchester_ as he smiled fondly at her.

The two of them just stared down at their little girl as she finally drifted off to sleep, her pain alleviated for the time being. A puddle of drool darkened the crib sheet under her cheek from where she was still intermittently chewing on the teething ring.

Once he was convinced that Mary was asleep and going to stay that way, Dean left the nursery. When Castiel didn’t immediately follow, he turned back to see the angel standing over the crib, watching the sleeping baby with a gentle look on his face. Dean couldn’t help the smile that quirked up one corner of his mouth. The look of adoration and love Castiel gave their daughter never failed to make Dean’s heart squeeze tight. His heart might have actually stopped for a brief moment when the angel lifted his head and turned that same look on him.

“You hangin’ around for a while?” Dean asked when Castiel finally joined him out in the hallway.

“Yes,” he replied simply as he shrugged out of his coat and followed Dean to their bedroom. “They need to learn to make do without me.”

“Good. ’Cause Mary and me…we need you,” Dean said softly, grabbing hold of Castiel’s coat and tossing it into the chair by the door. He settled his hands on the angel’s hips, pulling him in for a welcoming kiss.

Castiel lifted his hands to cup Dean’s face, fingertips brushing ever so lightly over the curve of his ears. When their lips parted, he smiled. “I need you and Mary, too.”

They separated at the foot of the bed, Dean going right and Castiel going left. Dean climbed under the covers while Castiel stretched out on top of them, reaching over to turn off the baby monitor.

“I’ll listen out for her.”

Dean rolled over onto his stomach, facing Cas and hugging his arms around his pillow. “We didn’t fill our quota for naps today,” he yawned.

“Goodnight, Dean,” Castiel said as he leaned down to kiss the hunter on the forehead.

Soft, warm darkness washed over Dean like a blessing.

*****

A week later Mary Ellen Winchester earned the nickname _Duckie_ when two tiny wings covered in soft, fluffy, butter-yellow down finally sprouted from between her shoulder blades.

**Author's Note:**

> Back-story that didn't make it into the story:
> 
> Aunt Charlie and Aunt Dorothy are adventuring in Oz and are regular visitors to the Bunker. Uncle Sam spends part of his time in the Bunker and the other part up in Sioux Falls with Aunt Jody (they're totally a thing, even though Sam denies it and says he's just _helping_ her out). 
> 
> Dean is the new Bobby. He doesn't go out and dig up graves or run down werewolves any more; he gives backup and support to other hunters using the Men of Letters' resources. He holds onto the option that he might go out in the field again when Mary gets older, but he probably won't. Cas led the reconstruction of Heaven after the angels undid Metatron's spell. Things have returned to normal upstairs and Cas is spending more time with his earthly family.
> 
> Mary's is 100% Dean and Cas's kid. She has a human soul and angelic grace.


End file.
